


Loss of Voice

by Kimium



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo Fill [8]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo Fill, Brief description of strangling someone for like .5 seconds, Brief description of that student council scene from DR3, Fill: Lost Their Voice from Screaming, Fluff, Kisses, Lost Their Voice from Screaming, M/M, Mention of being electrocuted like a taser for .5 seconds, Mild canon divergence, Mild description of a mild panic attack, One Shot, Rated M Just To Be Safe, Screaming, cuddles in bed, post sdr2, pre sdr2, you know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-12 05:54:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18005099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimium/pseuds/Kimium
Summary: One Shot. Bad Things Happen Bingo Fill: Lost Their Voice from Screaming.He screamed until he could scream no longer. He screamed until his voice died and only wisps of air escaped his throat. Hajime screamed until nothing was audible. He screamed internally, the agony never stopping.The pain increased. The white spots behind his eyelids flared like a solar burst of agony. Hajime’s voice didn’t return. His will crumbled and soon even internally his voice faded.Screams can come from all sorts of emotions but the only screams Hajime (and Kamukura) know are screams from Despair.





	Loss of Voice

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!!!
> 
> This is a fill for my Bad Things Happen Bingo (Lost their voice from screaming). My good friend Yuki prompted this to me as a fill months ago, stating I should do something for this fill with Kamukura. I had that as a note on my phone for eons and now it's filled.
> 
> I forgot that this was supposed to be a darker sort of fic so there is some fluff and cuddles at the end. However, I do warn you that there is some violence. It's not descriptive and it's canon typical so it isn't anything too shocking. I do have a brief scene of Kamukura strangling someone for .5 seconds. I also have a brief mention to the Student Council scene from DR3 for .5 seconds. If any of those things bother you, please PLEASE take care of yourself. Either skip the brief scenes or leave this fic. Your comfort is up to you and is most important!!!
> 
> Writing more canon Dangan Ronpa fics is always fun and I hope you all enjoy this one! Please feel free to leave kudos and comments as those always motivate me. Also, if you want, you are free to check my tumblr out right [here](http://www.kimium.tumblr.com).

They came every day, poking and prodding at him.

They didn’t have a name or an individual identity. Rather, they were a singular mass, an entity that had split itself into perfect identical clones. Hajime could never distinguish any differentiating features. They all wore stark white lab coats that were pressed perfectly. They all spoke with the same low tones. They all stared dead and emotionless at him, eyes blank and calculating.

And they all hurt him.

Every single time.

Hajime couldn’t remember why. No, perhaps he did know why. Perhaps he did know but he had long since tucked that away, deep inside of himself. Maybe the truth was too much to bare. Maybe the truth was never known to him. Maybe the truth was something he didn’t want to remember. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the pain, the agony, the ripping apart of his very mind.

Or maybe the truth did matter and Hajime was lying to himself.

He couldn’t think further. The pain skyrocketed, bursting hotly and warmly in his veins like battery acid on an open wound. Hajime screamed, writhing, desperately wishing he could claw at something, anything. They had taken that away from him, strapped him down, tied him and tethered him to a world that revolved around pain, darkness, and semi consciousness.

He wanted the tearing in his mind to go away. He wanted the pain to stop. He wanted to stop feeling. He wanted them to leave him alone.

Hajime wanted to die. He wanted someone to save him.

That desire burned hotly and passionately. Hajime wanted death to take him. He wanted someone to whisk him away. He wanted… He wanted…

_“Subject is responding to moderate stimuli.”_

_“Subject will now experience an increase.”_

The phrases stuck in Hajime’s brain, swirling, contorting. He felt more pain, more ripping, more agony.

_Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop._

Hajime long since lost the ability to speak, the ability to reason, the ability to plead. Begging wasn’t an option anyways.

Hajime just screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed. He screamed until all he could hear was his voice. He screamed until all he could feel was his voice in his throat. He screamed through the pain, through the white dots that flashed hotly behind his eyelids. He screamed at the white coats, the singular entity who was ripping him apart.

He screamed until he could scream no longer. He screamed until his voice died and only wisps of air escaped his throat. Hajime screamed until nothing was audible. He screamed internally, the agony never stopping.

The pain increased. The white spots behind his eyelids flared like a solar burst of agony. Hajime’s voice didn’t return. His will crumbled and soon even internally his voice faded.

Hajime didn’t return.

He died.

Just like he wanted.

~

Kamukura was born.

~

The first thing Kamukura did was squeeze the neck of one of the scientists until they had to electrocute him to stop. He squeezed until the scientist couldn’t shout or yell or even try to talk to him. Kamukura knew that if he could, the scientist would have been screaming until his very last breath, maybe even losing his voice. Boring. Predictable. There was nothing unique or special about the scientists’ reactions.

Yet, for the briefest of moments, Kamukura felt a small spark of joy in his heart.

~

The student council was screaming. They were also crying. There was also a lot of blood.

Kamukura stood off the side and just watched. This was what Enoshima wanted to show him? This barbaric form of depravity and despair? The blood and gore? The human response to flight or fight? Kamukura could have watched this play out in nature with animals. Boring. It was utterly boring. He waited for just a moment, to see if anything would surprise him, but nothing did. Holding his sigh, Kamukura turned to leave.

Until the winner saw him. Until he decided to attack him. Kamukura moved. The boy fell.

As the boy screamed and the sound of death filled the room, Kamukura felt a spark inside, an almost moment of understanding the screaming, the pain. Then, the boy tried to shoot at him one final time. The bullet grazed him and Kamukura felt that spark from earlier tingle a bit brighter inside. As he touched his face in silence, no more screaming filled the room, he wondered if perhaps Enoshima was right.

There was only one way to find out.

So, he let her continue, allowed Enoshima to create the world she longed for. Kamukura just sat back and watched as the world soon devolved into screams and despair. The screams continued until they couldn’t continue (for one reason or another).

~

“Please, please help us.”

Kamukura didn’t know why he was in Towa City. He had just wandered, listening to the sounds of people screaming, listening to the despair and carnage that filled the world. He stepped to the side of everything and just watched, forever watching Enoshima’s world. Sometimes, when he wasn't bored – which was always all of two seconds – he wondered if Despair was really the answer.

Perhaps that was why he was in Towa City. The hostages were there. The people most precious to those trapped with Enoshima in the school. It wasn’t as though Kamukura wanted to meet them. He just felt the pull and tug towards Towa City because of them. The tug was small one deep in his heart and Kamukura had nothing else to do.

Hearing the screams and the agony in Towa City were common place. Kamukura walked through the land and side stepped any Monokuma bots or raving, desperate survivors. He knew what was happening in the town and Kamukura had no desire to talk to the children Enoshima had manipulated. If they wanted to crusade their hatred upon the adults they would even if Kamukura stopped them. That sort of hatred was too deep, too rooted.

So, when he ended up seeing a captured group of adults, huddling in an abandoned building, dirt and sweat streaked upon their faces Kamukura wasn’t surprised. He also wasn’t surprised when a woman spoke up to him, screaming at him over the sound of destruction and chaos.

“Please, please help us!” She screamed out again. Over the noise her scream was barely a whisper.

Kamukura took a moment to really examine her. Beyond the dirt and the sweat she was clearly a gentle woman, a mother. She had the look of someone who was firm but kind. Kamukura could hear her scolding and see the hard work she had to put into not just her professional life but also her homelife. He could see her children, average, regular kids, who she’d die for in an instant. They weren’t dead though, Kamukura could see that in her eyes. She had hope for them.

He could save her. He could easily save everyone. Then what? His saving of them would be only a hopeless act of kindness. It would only be delaying the inevitable.

So Kamukura walked away, he walked away and listened as her screams and pleads continued until they faded into the wind, lost to his ears. No doubt her screams would continue until her voice gave out.

~

Enoshima’s AI wouldn’t stop talking, wouldn’t stop giggling and whispering and grating on his nerves. So, when Kamukura shoved his hands into the metal of the bear’s heads and grabbed the AI core out, he liked to imagine that Enoshima was screaming in agony as he did so. Ripping the lifeless AI from the mangled heads, Kamukura stared at the AI chips, as though he expected screaming and wailing to arise from them. Nothing happened.

Kamukura pocketed the chips and looked outward to the sky. It was clearing up, just barely, with almost a ray of sunlight seeping through. His mouth twitched. Kamukura knew where he had to go next.

“To Jabberwock Island.” He muttered. “Towards Hope or Despair.”

~

As the Neo World Program pulled him under Kamukura wondered what kinds of screams he’d hear within. He wondered if he’d be affected by them. Time was running out for him but in the end, this was his final test, to see if Enoshima was right all along.

Closing his eyes Kamukura wished he could be lulled to his death through the sound of screaming rather than silence.

Kamukura didn’t return.

He died.

~

Hajime was reborn.

~

The screams that echoed in the old building once the table cloth was lifted was worse than Hajime could have ever imagined them to be. He thought he had heard a scream of pure and utter despair when Monokuma showed up but this topped it all.

Hajime’s brain couldn’t scrub the image of Byakuya’s dead body. However, with the body in front of him, Hajime knew he would never ever be able to erase it. Not just the image of Byakuya’s dead body, but the screams would never leave Hajime’s brain.

~

Hajime couldn’t remember exactly why he had internally been half yelling, half desperate. His body was so weak, so frail from being trapped in the Funhouse. All he could piece together was the blinding desire to go into the Final Dead Room, to solve the puzzles inside, to find a way to escape. He vaguely remembered Nanami and her soft words, urging Hajime to leave, to not go inside, to return to his room.

What Hajime was remembering was how he ran into Komaeda and how somehow their conversation, Hajime’s words sore from fatigue and yelling, was drowned by a kiss.

The walls of the Strawberry House were too pink, too garish. The lack of reprieve from the colour was burning into his skull. Hajime thought he hated the walls but at the moment, with his body pressed against it and Komaeda kissing him feverishly, Hajime found himself re-evaluating his stance on the walls.

Komaeda kissed him like they had kissed before (except they hadn’t). Komaeda kissed him like they were more than whatever strange, messed up relationship they had (except they didn’t have a relationship). Komaeda kissed him like he was trying to swallow and devour all of Hajime’s screams and his voice (which, he was devouring them).

It was the first time in a long while that Hajime felt completely free from screaming, from the possibility of a scream erupting from his throat. When Komaeda pulled away that possibility, to not scream in agony or despair again, was intoxicating.

Hajime seized another kiss without a word. Komaeda fell into the kiss. No reason was given. Hajime never received one. He didn’t want one. He just wanted a singular moment for his screams and the screams of others to cease, to not be able to be born into the world.

So, they kissed.

And so, for a moment, the screams died.

~

For the first time when Hajime saw Komaeda’s body a scream didn’t rip out of his throat immediately. Instead, for a brief second, as Hajime looked at Komaeda’s body, he saw true terror. He saw Komaeda frozen in time, screams only muffled by the duct tape across his lips. Forever silenced, forever swallowed back by Komaeda because there was no where else to go.

Hajime touched his lips and remembered how Komaeda had kissed him in the Funhouse. He remembered how Komaeda swallowed all of his screams with his lips. Hajime felt tears drip down his face, soft and silent, as silently he screamed inside. A small part of him wished he could have been the one to swallow Komaeda’s screams.

~

When Enoshima’s AI fell to Usami, she didn’t scream. She just went down silently, like a doll or a puppet. In a way, as Hajime watched the scene unfold, he wondered, for a moment, if Enoshima’s AI even had the ability to scream as it was destroyed. Maybe it didn’t. That possibility in itself was sad.

~

When Hajime woke up, brain fuzzy, mind half cobbled together hastily like a child with glue and paper, he heard a scream.

Not a scream in terror, but a scream of pure utter joy, warm and radiating. It spoke of the warmth and high of relief. It spoke of all the tension and agony being released in a single pool of joy. It spoke of happiness.

It was the first and maybe the only scream of joy Hajime was sure he was going to hear for a while.

~

Naegi said that the Neo World Program had been wiped from their memories due to how they had to escape. Hajime thought he was wrong. Memories always had a way of creating impressions deep within the mind. Memories always had a way of screaming loudly, wanting to be heard and remembered.

~

When Komaeda woke at last, the final one to awaken, Hajime was there. He was there at his side, watching. As Komaeda’s eyes fluttered and he took in his amputated arm (really, it was for the best. Enoshima’s arm was… rotting), his mouth opened in a half muffled scream of surprise. Komaeda’s voice was very hoarse and dry. Hajime wanted to ease his pain, to let Komaeda know that remembering and waking up would hurt but also heal.

Hajime couldn’t remember the Neo World Program in detail but he did have an impression. It burned in his brain and on his lips. So, gently, Hajime leaned in.

“Hey? You’re awake.” Hajime stated the obvious before he gently pulled Komaeda up. “I’m Hinata Hajime.”

“Hinata.” Komaeda’s voice rasped, the silent scream lost. “I’m… alive?”

“Yes,” Hajime replied, “yes you are.”

~

It took three months before one day, as Komaeda half silently crying, half silently screaming in the real warehouse, where he had insisted on visiting (“For my closure, for me to see it in person” he had said), that they kissed.

Hajime had anticipated the reaction. He had warned Komaeda of the possibility. Everyone else reacted in the same way. Hajime didn’t want to see Komaeda in a state of terror and agony.

“Komaeda.” Hajime touched his arm and gently pulled him up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you come back here so soon. Let’s leave now.”

Komaeda twisted in Hajime’s arms. “Tell me, Hinata, do you remember finding me in the Program?”

He didn’t have to elaborate further. Hajime exhaled slowly and pulled Komaeda on his feet, still steadying him. “We all have impressions of the Program.” Hajime carefully responded. “So, it’s a bit hazy.”

“But?” Komaeda prompted.

Hajime started to tug Komaeda out of the warehouse, outside. The air was humid and suffocating but it was a breath of fresh air compared to the warehouse. Hajime felt a stab of guilt hit him as he looked back. He shouldn’t have allowed this. He shouldn’t have let Komaeda have his way…

“Hajime?” Komaeda suddenly used his first name. “Answer me.”

Focusing, Hajime angled Komaeda so he wasn’t looking at the warehouse. The answer to Komaeda’s question easily filled his brain. Impressions were strong. Hajime touched Komaeda’s shoulder softly.

“Sorry. I was thinking.” He told Komaeda before answering.

“And?”

Komaeda seemed bolder, more put together now that they were outside. Maybe this trip hadn’t been as major of a blunder as Hajime had thought. He would have to keep an eye on Komaeda for a while just to be sure. Shoving that thought to the side, Hajime grasped in his mind the impression. His lips tingled and Hajime leaned in.

“I do remember.” Hajime clarified for Komaeda. “In the way we all have impressions of the Program.”

Komaeda nodded sharply. “I know. And? What do you remember?”

Hajime’s lips tingled a bit more and he knew that a demonstration was easier to answer. Making his intentions perfectly clear, Hajime cupped Komaeda’s face, pulling him in. Komaeda didn’t waver nor did he back away. He did blush however so Hajime took that as a positive sign.

“I remember wishing I could have kissed you one more time." Hajime half whispered.

“So, kiss me already.” Komaeda whispered back so softly that it resonated deep within Hajime, as loud and as strong as a scream.

“As you wish.” Hajime told Komaeda before he pressed his lips to Komaeda’s.

It was the sweetest kiss Hajime could ever remember.

~

Hajime thought that he had grown used to the screaming, to the sound of someone’s voice so shrill and filled with agony and pain. He thought he was accustomed to it but in the end he wasn’t.

The scream grew louder and was penetrating his brain, seeping into his consciousness. It took Hajime doubling over and nearly winding himself by smacking his knees into his chest that he realized the screaming was coming from him. Sharply, Hajime sucked in a deep breath, tried to contain his scream. His brain scrambled, unsure of why he was screaming in the first place. The dream (or the memory) had slipped from Hajime’s mind. It was merely smoke and mist, no tangible, solid form.

“Hajime?”

Komaeda’s arms were warm around him, seeping the heat from sleep and from their bodies mingled. His fluffy hair pressed against Hajime’s back, warm just like the rest of him, and his arms tightened. Hajime exhaled slowly and forced his voice to stop. Immediately he realized how dry his throat felt.

“Nagito.” Hajime’s voice was hoarse. “Sorry.”

“I understand.” Komaeda replied gently. “I’m here for you.”

Collapsing into the bed, Hajime allowed Komaeda to move so Hajime was the one being cradled, his head against Komaeda’s chest. Warm arms held him and a leg was half thrown over Hajime’s hips. It was like Hajime was the world’s worst giant teddy bear that Komaeda somehow decided was acceptable to snuggle.

“Thanks.” Hajime curled into Komaeda.

Komaeda hummed and gently stroked Hajime’s hair. “Want to talk about it?” He lightly asked.

Hajime shook his head. “I can’t even remember why I was screaming. Maybe if I do later, we can talk.”

“All right.” Komaeda agreed. “Can you fall back asleep?”

“I could.” Hajime replied. “I just don’t really want to.”

“Okay.”

There was a moment of silence, a moment that wasn’t filled with a scream. Just tranquility and peace.

“Say, let’s make breakfast for everyone later.” Komaeda said casually. “We can give Hanamura a break.”

Hajime smiled. He could imagine the look on everyone’s faces, the joy at eating and being together. Nodding into Komaeda’s chest in approval he opened his mouth.

“Sure, I’d love to.” He replied, no scream erupting from his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Turning Hajime into Kamukura: I know we got a glimpse in DR3 of how they turned Hajime into Kamukura (with a lot less screaming on screen) but I wanted to write the process and I wanted to have a lot of screaming.
> 
> Throat crushing: I know some may find it out of character for Kamukura to actively attack someone (opposed to sort of causing the chain saw scene in DR3) however, I sort of wanted a brief moment of anger (like a small dark deep resentful part surfacing before fading into apathy).
> 
> DR3 scene: As much as I know DR3 has flaws that student council scene haunts me.
> 
> The woman: I didn't directly say it but I imagined her as Makoto and Komaru's mother. Since AE did hint about their parents possibly in Towa City (and possibly dying there due to the Warriors of Hope) I thought it would be a hint to throw in.
> 
> Kissing in the Funhouse: Kay, look, I'm weak and truthfully I've had the image of them kissing in the Funhouse in my brain for forever.
> 
> Impressions: It's my personal head canon that while the Neo World Program was indeed wiped from their minds, that the brain remembers some impressions of it, particularly the more vivid memories.
> 
> Warehouse IRL: I like to believe all islands from the Program are present in real life (save for the Funhouse and the inside of Nezumi Castle) and I like to believe that the SDR2 cast have to over come going to certain places for their recovery.
> 
> Cuddling in the end: I forgot this was supposed to be a Bad Things Happen Fill. I wanted all my fills to be a bit darker (save for my first one) but I forgot and I like the cuddle scene. I think there is enough angst in this fic to justify this as a fill so...


End file.
